


ivy and linden and bridal veil

by InsolitaParvaPuella



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Flowers, Happy Ending, Isolation, Language of Flowers, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:33:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24354376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsolitaParvaPuella/pseuds/InsolitaParvaPuella
Summary: At one very early dawn during the Blue Sea Moon, Marianne leaves her room to find a bouquet laying outside her door.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 17
Kudos: 43
Collections: Banned Banned Together Bingo 2020, Banned Together Bingo 2020





	ivy and linden and bridal veil

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is a three-for! i wrote it as a kink meme fill on 3houseskinkmeme, for the prompt "dedue/marianne emotional comfort/comfort sex". the fic, uh, got away from me a little. i still hope you liked it, requester!
> 
> it also works for my miscegenation square on banned together bingo (where prompts are meant to be interpreted as "would a zealous censor ban my work for this reason"), and the isolation/loneliness square in gen-prompt bingo. i can only hope i continue to be this efficient in my ficcing.

At the first blush of dawn, the earliest that students are permitted from their dorms, Marianne is dressed in her uniform and making her way to the stables. Sometimes she is joined by her classmates, but they give her a wide berth. Hilda’s told her that she’d love to join, but early mornings aren’t “her thing”. It’s fine. She knows that if she goes early she will not trouble anyone else with her presence, and then she can talk freely to the horses and cats and dogs. And the bird song sounds finest when she’s alone.

At one very early dawn during the Blue Sea Moon, Marianne leaves her room to find a bouquet laying outside her door. It is hardly a bouquet in the typical sense. A water lily tied with branches of amethyst, seven-sisters rose, and sprigs of coriander. But it is clearly also not a slapdash creation. The flowers are perfect, all blooming and unbruised despite lying on the floor all night, the plain ribbon tied with care into a pretty bow, everything arranged as best as it could be. Something this carefully made cannot be intended for her. 

Marianne lets the bouquet sit in a vase with a little water, in the hopes that will keep it fresh until it reaches its intended recipient. She is early to class and asks each of the Golden Deer if they’d dropped flowers by her door. Lorenz denies it, and Hilda and Claude tease her for having an admirer. She denies it, hoping to preserve the unknown person’s dignity. She doesn’t want a rumour to spread that someone admires her. None of the other Golden Deer went up to the second floor the previous night, so the mystery persists.

She cannot keep the bouquet, no matter how humble it is. So Marianne asks some of the Black Eagles and Blue Lions, hoping that one of them might know who made it, or the intended recipient. None of them know, but when she describes it to Ashe his face lights up with recognition.

"I don't know who made it, but I think…" He goes into his bookbag and lays it out on the table. It's a book of herbs, trees, flowers, and “all their secret meanings". He flips through the pages, finding each plant in turn.

Water lily for purity of heart, seven-sisters rose for grace, and coriander for hidden merit, surrounded by amethyst for admiration. 

“I admire your hidden virtues of grace and purity of heart,” Ashe says, translating the meaning of the bouquet. He sighs a little. It _is_ a terribly romantic thing to do, Marianne thinks, sending secret messages through flowers to a subject of admiration. She knows now there must be some mistake, but when she asks the Professor about it, they tell her no one reported a missing bouquet. Marianne feels terribly guilty about it, but the Professor tells her to keep it. The bouquet will not survive a week in their pockets (no matter how miraculous they seem) while they ask everyone in the monastery.

That night, lying in bed, Marianne looks at the little piece of affection she’s taken from an unknown giver. It warms her, just a bit, to see something lovely that she’s allowed to keep. 

-.-

When the flowers begin to wilt Marianne thinks to have some pressed. After that she doesn’t think much of the bouquet until the middle of the Ethereal Moon. That is the day she finds a yellow tulip at her desk bound with witch hazel in another plain ribbon, and a small bowl of strawberries on a bed of peppermint. There is a note laid across the tulip’s stem, written in pretty cursive.

_Marianne,_

_If the peach tree was in bloom, I would have left a branch of it for you._

_Yours, truly._

There is no signature, but that is unmistakably her name. Someone wrote the message for her and laid out gifts for her. Hilda is delighted on her behalf, swooning at the romance. Raphael tells her that whoever went to the effort to pick the greenhouse’s strawberries for her (and only perfectly ripe, plump, jewel-red berries) must care for her deeply. Marianne shares the strawberries with her classmates, before class can start. The peppermint she saves to give to Dorte.

She remembers the book Ashe read all those months ago, and so when she and the others are dismissed for lunch, she goes to the library first. Linhardt gives her directions, and she finds the book once again. She travels the pages quickly, curious if these gifts also carry meaning. Perhaps some hint to the giver. Strawberries mean perfection and peppermint warmth of feeling. Yellow tulips mean hopeless love, witch hazel enchantment, and the promised peach blossoms “I am your captive”. It is not a difficult meaning to put together.

 _I am enchanted, held captive by my hopeless love for you. These warm feelings are for your perfection._

Her heart pounds in her chest. Either she is the victim of some cruel joke, or there is someone in Garreg Mach who loves her. And she cannot believe her classmates capable of this cruelty; even Hubert, who she is deeply frightened of, would not stoop to this. The other thought is equally impossible. Who could love her? She has to hide her face in her hands, her cheeks are burning brightly.

It has to be someone familiar with plants. Someone who would be willing to kneel in the dirt and pick strawberries for her. She thinks of Ashe first, but cannot believe him capable of deception. He told her all those moons ago, he was not the maker of the bouquet. Even if the fact he carried a book on flowers is suspicious, she does not want to think he would lie about sending her a gift. Not when the flowers meant something so kind.

Bernadetta spends a great deal of time in the greenhouse, but they have hardly interacted. And would Bernadetta have the courage to send a confession of love to her? One that she is certain Claude and Lysithea interpreted as soon as they saw it? It doesn’t seem right. Neither does Cyril, who also spends a great deal of time in the greenhouse, but who doesn’t seem the sort to study the secret meaning of flowers. He’s always more concerned with practical matters.

There is always Dedue. She’s fought by his side before; her blade and healing magic supporting him at the front lines while she took shelter behind his shield when battles grew too brutal. She knows he loves flowers, has seen him in the greenhouse many times. It is common knowledge that Dedue is happy to trade chore shifts to spend more time with the flowers, if he is not in the kitchen. But he seems so quiet, so stoic, his attention devoted entirely to his liege. How could he ever have eyes for her, let alone love her?

Her cheeks and ears are burning and she skips lunch rather than be seen like this.

Hilda believes that after a gift so public as the flowers and fruit she received, someone will ask her to dance at the ball at the end of the month. Perhaps even profess their love in person. The stories about the Goddess Tower go around the entire school, fuelled by some of the girls’ delight in romance. Marianne does not let herself get her hopes up.

She tells herself over and over that Dedue is no more likely to be the sender than anyone else, but she can’t help it. Her eyes are drawn to him more often now. She notices him in ways she never did before. When the Professor assigns her to support him her usual shyness in battle is worse. She discovers a certain handsomeness to him, something attractive about his hands; he would have been so careful and gentle picking strawberries, but he wields an axe with terrifying power. 

No one asks her to dance at the ball but Hilda and Lorenz, the former for fun and the latter out of obligation. Marianne doesn’t let herself feel disappointed that no one stepped forward and told her the flowers were gifts from them. And after the ball things fall apart, she doesn’t let herself think of romance at all.

-.-

Dedue is dead. The news breaks the hearts of everyone. Marianne sees the Professor weep silently, sitting at the fishing pond at the break of dawn. Some of the former Blue Lions organise a wake, combining the traditions of Duscur and Faerghus. There is a great deal of alcohol and a great deal of storytelling. Marianne has no stories to tell, but she takes a seat at the end of a table and celebrates with them all the same.

There is no grave, but they all leave tokens of remembrance for him in his old room. Marianne finds the greenhouse growing wild, but she and Ashe are able to put together a bouquet for Dedue. Periwinkle for tender remembrance, camellia for admiration, gratitude, and good fortune, helenium for tears, and cypress for mourning. Ashe recites the meaning as they lay it on Dedue’s dust-covered pillow: I weep for the sweet memories we shared. I mourn you, and send my feelings of admiration and gratitude to you.

In hindsight, Marianne knows that Dedue was her admirer. She still cannot quite fathom why he loved her, but no one at Garreg Mach knew her and the language of flowers in equal measure, except perhaps Ashe. And with her new powers of insight she can see Ashe nursing tender feelings for someone else. Her heart aches at the thought that this love passed her by and she gave Dedue no sign of her interest, no sign that his feelings might one day be returned. It’s one of her sorest regrets from her school days, but it doesn’t feel right to mourn this lost chance for love, the way she mourns the loss of a friend.

She might love him even now, she thinks. In those months when tragedy struck Garreg Mach again and again, she did not allow romance to cross her mind. But her feelings for Dedue had become softer, warmer, and sweeter. It’s impossible to know what she’s feeling now, with regret and mourning tangled in her nostalgia.

-.-

Dedue is alive! He is scarred and there is five years of suffering on his shoulders, but he is alive! All of Garreg Mach celebrates his return. Even Dimitri is less dour than usual, seeming almost at peace when he strides past Marianne to the cathedral. Ashe and Bernadetta nearly sob in relief that he will be able to aid them in the greenhouse once again. The food-producing plants are thriving, but the medicinal herbs have suffered in his absence. Flayn and Annette are thrilled by the return of their culinary teacher. Everyone missed him, so the party to celebrate his return is as lavish as the Professor will allow.

There is music and dancing; Dorothea leads them all in jolly drinking songs and Mercedes plunks out accompaniment on a badly-tuned pianoforte that once dwelt in a storage room. Sylvain leads them in games that grow more suggestive as the night progresses and the alcohol flows more freely. Even Felix is roped into the merry-making, though Dedue is allowed to stay at the fringes of the party in his honour.

Marianne sees him share a small, gentle smile with the Professor as they bid the revelers a good night. She thinks, _oh_ , and it’s so simple. She loves him. She loves him and now he is here. She doesn’t know what to do. At school she might have asked Hilda for advice, and Hilda would have brought all the Golden Deer into a discussion of her feelings. But the Golden Deer are scattered between Garreg Mach and Leicester, and it is foolish to send a letter to Hilda to ask solely for romantic advice.

The war keeps her too busy regardless. The Professor is always planning their next move, and Dimitri pushes constantly for the move to happen sooner. Marianne trains with her sword and white magic, and when the Professor presents her with a levin sword, she trains on that as well. She spends time with Dedue, though always hard at work and in the company of others. And then, the night before their next battle, Marianne finds a bouquet of dwarf sunflowers and petunias, wrapped in sprigs of flax and oak leaves and bound by some leftover piece of ribbon. 

_I feel your kindness and bravery and it soothes me, your devout admirer._

It’s not the same impassioned declaration of love, but Marianne doesn’t know if years have tempered his feelings or his expression of them. Either way, there is no time to ask. She puts the bouquet in water and goes to the greenhouse. She wants to respond. After the battle, she’ll bind the flowers and tell him.

-.-

After the battle, Mercedes sends Marianne to the healing tent. Dedue is there, badly injured but not at death’s door. He is awake, but he lets his eyes flutter shut while she works. Healing magic pours from her palms and settles into his skin, mending wounds and soothing bruises. She focuses entirely on her work, and not on the bag of supplies in the corner that bears her response. 

“All this time,” she says when she’s finished, “and we’ve hardly spoken. No,” she corrects herself. “You’ve told me very clearly how you feel. You deserve an answer.”

Dedue lies there calmly as she brings her bag near. She can feel it, the quiet tension that now they both know how they feel. But she has to answer him, as clearly as she can.

Lilac and ambrosia. _Do you still love me, for I love you._ Linden, chickweed, and nightflowering silene. _I love you as a bride loves her intended. Meet me tonight._ It is a brazen expression of her feelings. She has never said anything so bold in her life. She undoes the ribbon that holds her collar closed and wraps it around the plants, then sets them on his chest. She expects him to say something, doesn’t expect him to rise up, set a hand on her cheek, and kiss her while he holds the flowers to his heart.

She feels love in his kiss, and leans in to return it a hundredfold. 

-.-

“Are you lonely?” Dedue asks, holding Marianne in his arms. 

“No,” she says, opening his shirt and admiring how he looks in the moonlight. “But I was lonely, long ago. And then you told me you loved me.” She kisses him tenderly. The garden around them is made silver by the night, ivy and linden and bridal veil giving them shade and shelter. Dedue undoes the buttons at the back of her dress and it slides down her body, guided by his broad hands. The cool night air closes around her. Dedue slides one of his warm hands under her shift, settling at the base of her spine.

“When I saw you,” he says, but then goes quiet, bending obediently to Marianne’s hands around his neck and giving her plenty of space to kiss. “I didn’t understand why people couldn’t see your grace,” he finishes, breathy and soft. He pulls her closer, bringing Marianne into his shade and shelter. She needs to bend back to see his face, to kiss it sweetly. 

“You were a candle in the darkness,” she tells him. “I did not think I could be loved, but you proved me wrong.” She’s learned now that her friends genuinely love her, too. She’s learned so much. She still treasures the first light he lit for her.

“I thought my feelings would be off-putting to you.”

“Never,” Marianne says, removing her shift. Dedue bends her back further, supporting her back and shoulders as he lays her in the cool, damp grass. He lets her undress him from below and she loves him. She teaches him to touch her body lovingly and she loves him. With a kiss, they are joined. Marianne breathes the words into his skin, over and over. She loves him.

When Dedue lies down at her side he says, “I’ll give you a crown of ivy.”

She lays her hand in his and promises, “I’ll wear it on my wedding day.”

**Author's Note:**

> i have a twitter dot com now: insolitapuella (my full name is too long). i'll probably post fic updates and also chat fandom stuff if anyone wants to do that.


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